


Amoris

by macabremusic



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, ISH ISH NOT REALLY, M/M, Murder, Physical Abuse, Power Dynamics, Slavery, Thunder and Lightning, Zeus is a horrible father, servitum amoris, why does no one remember admetus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:54:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29998269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabremusic/pseuds/macabremusic
Summary: Retelling of the myth of Apollo and Admetus.
Relationships: Apollo/Admetus
Kudos: 3





	1. Death

He could feel the blood surging through his veins as he entered the workshop. Anger coursed through him like a raging river. How dare they make weapons of destruction, weapons that killed his son! It was all their fault, he was dead and it was all their fault. He had to do  something. 

Truth be told, and he was all about truth, he did not know his way around the forge, nor who actually made the bolt. But he needed to do this, even if just to get his anger out on someone, something. He’d tried hunting until his fingertips bled and he had calluses, and it did nothing but make his sister angry with him for killing too much wildlife. He tried isolating himself, but no one came to check on him and that defeated the point. Drinking? Nada. It just made Dionysus cut him off, eventually, and avoid him. It felt like everyone avoided him these days. 

His feet were the loudest thing in the place, as all the workers had stopped their… well, working. They were staring up expectantly at him, as though waiting for an order. They looked terrified. Good, he thought. Good. Let them be scared. 

“Which one of you good for nothing scumbags made this?!” He held up a bit of the lightning bolt, dried blood, red, crusting on its edges. 

The cyclopes cowered. He understood that his human form was rapidly deteriorating, but couldn’t bring himself to care. If he showed his true form, so be it. His eyes were now glowing brightly, golden, and he could tell he had risen several feet off the ground. 

The workers looked at each other, scanning the room for whoever was to blame. 

One brave cyclops spoke up. “We’re.. All of us, sir.” 

Grief is a powerful thing. Especially in a god, and one that had been teased endlessly over caring about a mortal. He was my son! He shouted at them, constantly, to no avail. 

His hair had been flickering upwards like fire, but now it was a full raging inferno. You did not want to make a god angry. 

This god was furious. 

His body no longer looked anything like that of a human’s. He was glowing steadily brighter, losing his grip on any sense of mercy. 

There would be no mercy, nor forgiveness, not for these scum. 

It burst in a cataclysm of light. If he had plans to show them a semblance of pity, all of them had been cancelled. In that moment, that second of supernova, nothing mattered but destruction. 

He did not remember leaving the forge, or collapsing outside of it. 


	2. Strained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeus is a horrible father.

He awoke to the always sweet sound of his father screaming, at him he assumed. He was left to guess that he had been successful in attempting to avenge Asclepius, but he strangely felt no better. He thought this would put to rest his anger, but it revived like the phoenix at the sight of Zeus.   
He swallowed the bile rising in his throat as he caught the sour smell of bitter whine in the king's breath. It left him gagging. He debated whether he should be listening to the rant for only a moment, before focusing in on the actual words.

"This.. you deserve eternity in the deepest pits for this! All for what? A human! You know full damn well we are far above humans. Maybe you have forgotten, boy, but I. Am. King. My word is law, and you have broken it. Tartarus will suit you son, I should think." 

_Ah. So that's what this is about. I should probably say something._ The words seemed to die and freeze in his throat. He swallowed them back down. It was better not to argue, he knew, and he was sure his threats would simmer down. 

He knew that punishment was inevitable, of course. There was no way out of that. He could only hope that someone, something could convince the tyrant to take pity on him. My, was he a hypocrite. He knew deep down it was a terrible thing, what he had done, and he likely deserved eternity in the deepest retches. Yet, something akin to human desperation insisted that he didn't. He didn't want to die, and Tartarus was the closest thing to death there was, for a god. 

He could only hope one of his siblings, or perhaps his mother Leto, would convince Zeus to spare him. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the strike until it was too late to do much but flinch. 

Zeus had hit him, with his fist. At least, that's what he assumed it was by the level of pain. He'd definitely have a black eye after this, and Zeus would likely order him not to heal it, as a mark of shame. He felt a tight grip wrap around his arm. Zeus' hands were so big, they fit twice over the skin, and he was easily dragged along. 

The yelling had stopped, and yet.. this was far worse, he knew. If Zeus wasn't yelling, it meant he was serious. Dead serious.


	3. Counsel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They decide his fate

The counsel was full, which would only make his case worse. It sounded backwards, right? If his family witnessed what Zeus had just done, what he was doing currently, shouldn't they do something? 

No. The Olympians pretended to be a counsel. Pretended to themselves, to others, to everyone. But Zeus was the be all, end all. He was telling the truth, Apollo knew. His word was law. He was king. Hermes was staring at him, he looked shocked. His eyes must be really bad, by the way Ares grimaced and Poseidon did a double take. He spoke. 

"What have you done, boy?" He sounded angry. Apollo quickly realized they would not take his side, either from judgement, or fear of his, their father.   
He himself knew it best not to say a word. He wouldn't explain himself, wouldn't do anything. It would only make things much more worse. 

"This wretch has slaughtered my workers. His overconfidence has gone far too far. You will not rampage around here anymore, I will make sure of it. Tartarus. Are we in agreement?" 

What saved him in that moment, he would later think, was their hesitation. He used the few seconds that his father had his back to him, facing the others to teleport the hell out of there. 

He wasn't certain where exactly he had gone to. It looked rural, too rural, like somewhere his sister would go in her spare time, when they were done with the same monotonous routine they had everyday, and were actually being left alone for once. 

He leaned up against a stone wall, trying to catch his breath. Mountains spread out beneath him, he must be up high. He only hoped this was not somewhere his father frequently visited, but then again the only time he could remember Zeus going out into nature would be for Velchania, and even then not for long. 

He could sense a human presence near by, a man, and while he was always down for consorting with mortals, now probably wasn't the best time. The hidden figure was whistling, a tune that he recognized as a work song. A shepherd then, maybe? No, this place was too mountainous for sheep. Maybe cattle, he supposed. Maybe the man was a herdsman. 

Whoever the human was, they were getting closer. Apollo took a deep breath and disappeared. 

This time he was less lucky. Delos. That's where he had gone. He could hear his mother pleading with someone, could see servants about, wringing their hands nervously. He then heard the accusations of his father. Of course, of course he thought. Zeus is coming to tell my mother that I'm off to the pits. 

He didn't bother listening fully, leaving his attention to wander. 

"Lord Apollon?" A servant. Shit.   
"Yes, yes it's me. Now don't tell anyone I'm here, understand?"   
"Do you know what they're saying about you? That you've gone rogue, we were all looking and none of us could find you."  
"I'm aware. Now, be a good maid and please tell my mother that I've gone to visit her sister. She'll know what I mean." 

"Yes, but I think she's getting through to him. Listen!" 

And so he did. His father was sighing, clearly making a decision. 

"I suppose.. nine years is a good enough service. You get him, he's more likely to listen to you." And with a burst of blue light, Zeus was gone. 

Oh, thank the heavens for his soft spot for Leto! His former wife always brought out the... slightly more agreeable side to him. Yet, what did he mean by nine years? Nine years what? Nine years where? Not Tartarus, no, Leto would never make that agreement. But what? 


End file.
